


Forgotten

by chaoticlogic



Category: The Hobbit (Jackson Movies), The Hobbit - All Media Types, The Hobbit - J. R. R. Tolkien
Genre: Action/Adventure, Adventure, Adventure & Romance, Drama & Romance, Eventual Romance, F/M, Romance, Slow Burn, Slow Romance
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-12-26
Updated: 2020-12-26
Packaged: 2021-03-11 05:42:26
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,693
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28346334
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/chaoticlogic/pseuds/chaoticlogic
Summary: No one can remember the last time the Fae were seen in Middle Earth. They were once revered as the most powerful of the races with mystical powers, unlike any in the world has seen. Sauron knew the only way for his plans to succeed was to get rid of them, so he rid the world of them. However, one day you fall into the company of Thorin Oakenshield.Coincidence or fate? No one knows...As the last of the Fae you are unsure what to do... All you really want is a bath...... And the attention of a certain golden-haired Prince... What's a girl to do?
Relationships: Fíli (Tolkien)/Reader
Comments: 4
Kudos: 18





	Forgotten

The market is bustling as you dance your way through the stalls full of art and jewelry. Saturday at the market is easily your favorite day of week especially after you just got paid. Suddenly, a stone on one of the nearby tables catches your eye. It seems to almost have a light shining from it taking your breath away. It is clear with a bright blue light that just seems to shine among all the moonstones and labradorites. You hesitantly pick it up from the stall knowing that it is way out of budget and yet the price tag says $60. You blink in confusion at the piece before your hand secures, almost greedily, around the pendant as you call the owner over. 

“I’ll take this one,” you say, pulling out your wallet. 

“Sure! What length chain would you like?” she asks briskly, busy with the plethora of customers surrounding you both. 

You gaze at the pendant thoughtfully, the shard looking glamorously delicate and intricate, “thirty-six.”

She nods and quickly takes payment, but you stop her from wrapping it up, “I’ll just wear it out, thanks.” She hands it over with a friendly enough smile before she is pulled away by another buyer. 

You spend the rest of the afternoon meandering around the stalls of the market. Artisans are selling their crafts and you admire each of them happily. When you are finished you buy a meal from a local food truck and sit happily at one of the picnic tables scattered about the outside of the market. Once finished you throw back the last of your drink before you dispose of the trash and make your way back towards your apartment.

The evening air is brisk and warm with a breeze as the sunset paints the sky various colors of pinks and oranges. It’s only when you feel the telltale drop of rain that you become slightly concerned. You quicken your pace, annoyed you hadn’t driven to the market even though it wasn’t far from your home. As the rain picks up you begin to rush down the street as the once peaceful evening is ravaged by black clouds and lightning. Your apartment is almost in sight as you rush across the bridge, the only thing between you and home. 

With a jolt of lightning and a crack of thunder, the bolt catches a nearby streetlamp. You scream as you are thrown back and away. Suddenly water is all around you, a vortex of wind and rain. The only time you seem able to see is when the sky is illuminated by the ominous bolts of lightning. 

You scream for help, disoriented, and confused about what is happening, how did you get into the water? 

_ Now it is time to choose… _

The light and airy voice startle you. You have no idea how you could hear it over the raging storm. Suddenly all is quiet, almost deafeningly so after the roar of the storm raging around you. 

_ You must choose between life… _

_ And death… _

“What does that mean?!” you yell into nothing, to no one. 

_ Living means accepting your destiny… yourself… _

“And what does dying mean?!” you ask in panic. 

_ Failure… _

_ Now choose… _

The voice echoing in your head is silent, leaving you with your thoughts. You are beyond confused about everything, but what are you supposed to do? You don’t want to die!

“I want to choose life!”

_ Your choice has been made then? Just know you will never be able to return here…  _

“What do you mean?”

_ You have chosen destiny… _

You scream as you are abruptly thrown back into the storm and tossed about like a ragdoll in the washing machine. When just as abruptly as it all started… it stops.

Opening your eyes you gaze around you at the lush forest before looking down on the bed of flowers you’ve landed in encircled by mushrooms. The earth is soft and damp beneath you, the moss and foliage having softened your fall. The sky's the deep blue of the evening, you notice the way that the colors of twilight are just beginning to paint the sky. Sitting up you vaguely wonder how you got here, but you can remember nothing. Panic takes over as you search the area around you for anything or anyone. You find nothing. The only thing that floats across your mind is a singular name: Cwen. 

You sit up and feel your body scream as you do, with a groan you hold your aching head. Glancing down at your clothes you notice the dress you are wearing, it’s long and a deep black. It’s now stained and ripped in multiple places. You stumble to your feet and after a moment you finally gain your footing as you brace yourself against a tree. You lean your pounding forehead against the rough bark and gasp as whispers tickle your ears. You pull away and look around, but hear nothing and see no one. You tense as your instincts begin to truly kick in. You have no idea who you are or where you are and you’re scared. 

There is a crack from behind you causing you to whip around in enough time to see the ugliest creature you’ve ever seen in your life. It’s like a cross between a wolf and a hyena, with a scream you stumble back and away from it. The creature begins to stalk towards you, haunches raised in a low snarl, and with each step, you feel your fear grow. You are backed up against the tree and as you press against it you hear the whispers again. You can’t understand them, but honestly, you have more important things to worry about. 

As the creature leaps towards you you scream and hold your arms up, if not to shield yourself, to at least not watch it take a bite out of your face. It never comes though, in its stead is a low whine and groan. 

Hesitantly, you lower your arms and open your eyes to see the creature suspended in midair impaled on a branch from the very tree you are leaning against. The branch had gone down the creature’s throat, spearing it and killing it instantly. You’re too terrified to scream as you turn away from the horrid sight and lose your dinner all onto the ground. When you have gained enough wits about you, you run. 

You don’t look where you are going as you make a mad dash through the forest, not that it would matter anyway. The only thing on your mind is sheer terror as you just run. Before you know it night has fallen and you can only slump against a fallen log as you try to catch your breath. Now too exhausted to do anything other than sit and think you regard the quickly darkening forest around you and another kind of fear sets in. You curl yourself up into a ball and ponder your options. You could either try to find a place to stay for the night or some civilization and pray that no one will try to murder you, or you could stay where you are and hope that nothing finds you and tries to murder you. Either way, you really hope you don’t get murdered tonight. 

With a resigned sigh, realizing that you are very far from where you once were and if anyone is looking for you it would have been best to stay there. However, you know you have a better chance of potentially being able to find light in the dark and hope that you could be led to a road or a city. Anything. 

Your memories are slowly coming back, although nothing concrete yet. You remember concepts but you can’t recall a single person, even though you know you know people. No family. No friends. You don’t remember your home and you can’t recall a singular memory of your life. 

You have no idea how long you’ve been walking when you see it in the distance, a fire! You quickly make your way through the forest and you stumble across a campsite. The fire is still roaring in the pit, there are what look to be crudely made sleeping bags and various other packs and supplies scattered about as if the owners will be back any moment now. The smell of food is coming from a pot over the fire and you approach it to see stew bubbling. You glance around and call out a few times wondering if anyone is around and if they would answer. When no one approaches or answers you feel a bit like Goldielocks as you take a wooden bowl and scoop some of the stew into it. You have no idea when you last ate, but after running through the forest for hours being scared out of your mind, food sounds delightful and surely no one would mind if you ate some. After all, there looks to be plenty…

You plop yourself down on a log near the fire to keep the chill of the cool night air at bay. The dress you are wearing is not meant to keep you warm on such a cold night. Why are you wearing something so unsuitable for the weather anyway? You wonder this as you eat the stew the happiest that you’ve been since this madness started. 

Glancing into the darkness you can make out yells in the distance. Happy that there are people around, you get up off of the log before you take off into the bushes. You aren’t thinking as you see the light of a campfire in the distance and you rush towards it. ‘People!’ you think in relief. However, the minute you step into the clearing you realize you’ve made a grave mistake. 

“Oh? Wat do we ‘ave ‘ere?” questions a giant thing that just so happens to be much uglier and smellier than the creature from before, all with gray skin and a large gut. 

“Looks like a ‘uman wooman…” says one with a high nasally voice. 

“It’s been soo l-ong since we’ve ‘ad wooman! Soo much more fatty than man!” Delights a third.

Wait… did this…  _ thing _ just call you fat?

“Did you just-?” you start in indignation when one of them takes a step forward with the intent of scooping you up. You jump out of the way and hear a roar of male voices. Glance at the spit and then at a pen in the corner you notice a bunch of men being held hostage by the things before you. 

“Why yoo lit-tle!” exclaims the one that missed. 

“Oi! Leave the lass alone!” Yells a gruff voice, he is joined by a chorus of gruff masculine voices. 

“No shame!!”

“Pick on someone your own size!”

The deep gruff voices of the men around you at least prove to you that they are decent people. However, you don’t have time to ponder too much about it as you jump and tumble about the camp, all while attempting to keep your dress down. Vaguely you hope none of the men saw your bike shorts. Ok so it really wouldn’t matter, but it kills the illusion. 

“Got ya now!” yells one as you are cornered back against the trunk of a tree. You throw your arms up and suddenly there is silence. 

“Oi! No fair!” yells the nasally one. 

You slowly open your eyes and lower your arms only to see the things blinking at you through thick branches of the tree you're against. The branches now protecting you are woven together creating a barrier between you and your would-be captors.

“Enough of this!” yells the one who seems to be the ring leader as he stomps forward and pushes another out of the way. He takes hold of the branches and begins to attempt to pry them apart. You can hear the men in the background yelling again about them leaving you alone after a brief stunned silence. You feel your fear beginning to creep up on you again as the branches begin to give way to the strength of the beast before you. The popping and cracking of splintering wood assault your ears. Your breathing quickens and the only thing you can think of is how you wished they would just leave you alone!

“Hey! Stop!” yells one of them.

“Let go!” yells another. 

“Oi wat’s-” the thing is cut off as vines snake up its body and wrap itself around the creatures. You watch in confused horror as the things all struggle with the vines still wrapping itself dutifully around them. No matter how much they struggle they are no match for the creeping vines entangling then.

You see a flash of something in the distance before you hear the words, “By the dawn!” and a deafening crack rings in the air. You watch as the morning sun hits the creatures and moments later they are stone wrapped in vines. You blink in confusion as the man makes his way into the clearing. He checks on the men first, cutting the ties on one of the bags they are in before he makes his way over to you. 

“My dear… are you alright?” You look up through the broken branches into the kind eyes of the man now kneeling in the brush before you. Perhaps it was the events you just witnessed or the stress of the night, or perhaps it was just that grandfatherly kindness that he regards you with, but at that moment you just shake your head and begin to sob. 

“Oh, come now child…” he says kindly, as he carefully helps you from the branches and pulls you further into the clearing, “there, there… you’ll be alright…” 

“Is she hurt?” asks a male voice from behind the old man before you. 

“Aye! Get the lass something decent to wear! She must be freezing!”

“Is she a witch?” questions another with fear in his voice.

Startled out of your emotional breakdown by the men now standing all around you you stumble back. 

“Hold steady, lass!” says one who reaches out and catches you just before you hit the ground. In that moment, you may as well be in an old Hollywood movie. You are suddenly gazing up into a pair of golden brown eyes as the sun paints a halo of warm light around his blonde hair. You blink up at him in confusion before he rights you and you, much to your surprise, gaze down at him. Wait… down?

You look about at the men surrounding you and you are taller than all of them, except for the old man who towers above you. Not that you are not exactly tall, to begin with, but this is unexpected. 

Before you can say or do anything a heavy piece of fabric that smells distinctly like man and earth is draped around your shoulders. Another short man with a bright smile and deep blue eyes is on your other side helping to steady you, “You alright there?”

“Umm… thank you… I don’t know…” you say with uncertainty. 

“Are you hurt then?” questions another in concern shoving the blue-eyed man away. 

“The lass is hurt!” shouts another with an odd-shaped hat.

“Make way! Make way!” yells yet another, and at this point, you are wondering how many there are. 

A man with a trumpet to his ear is thrust through the crowd towards you. He grumbles to himself about the rough treatment before he straightens himself up and regards you professionally. 

“You hurt, lass?” He asks gruffly.

“Umm… maybe?” You answer in confusion.

“Maybe?” he asks in the same gruff tone as before. 

“Well everything kind of hurts, but it's more of an ache from… everything…” you gesture unhelpfully around you just hoping he would get the idea.

“Aye… Sounds like ye just need some rest is all. Right as rain soon!” He nods as if that solves all of life’s problems before he makes his way back through the group to complete whatever it was he was doing before he was shoved so unceremoniously through the crowd. 

“You’re not hurt then?” Asks the dark-haired blue-eyed man from before giving you what could only be described as puppy dog eyes.

“I don’t think so…” you murmur softly as you lean back against the claw-like branches that had acted as your shield. 

“So what exactly did you… uh… do back there?” Questions the man with the funny hat indicating the branches behind you. 

“Umm well… I don’t know…”

“Are ye a witch?” Questions one with hair that vaguely resembles a star. 

“I don’t think so…”

“You don’t think so? Ye either are! Or you’re not!” He exclaims.

“Aye, now lad! Just calm down!” Says the one with the weird hat. 

While the two argue about whether you are or are not a witch, the golden-haired man from before approaches you quietly. 

“Are you alright milady?” He asks with a kind smile.

You sigh softly, “I think so…” you’re flustered from your lack of memory.

“What did you mean when you said you didn’t think you were a witch? Are you unsure?” He asks kindly.

“I don’t… remember anything… so I don’t know what I am… I don’t remember ever doing anything like that, and you would think I would if I did… right?” You say uncertainty and fear clouding your voice.

“If I didn’t know any better…” begins the old man, “I would say that’s Fae magic.” His eyes twinkle as he catches yours. As if he is a grandfather with a secret stash of treats and he’s about to tell you where he hides the candy after dinner.

“Impossible!” Yells a deep voice from behind everyone. This one is majestic with graying hair and a beard shorter than many of the others. He’s also taller than most of them, even if you still have about 2 to 3 inches on him.

“The Fae haven’t been seen in Middle Earth for ages, you know that better than anyone Gandalf!” He continues. 

“Yes, but that,” he says indicating the claw-like branches you are leaning against and the vines wrapping around the now stone things, “is distinctly Fae magic. And as the only one here who has seen Fae magic, I think I would know what it looks like!”

He ends on a very decisive note and his eyes are daring anyone to oppose him.

The majestic one narrows his eyes as he regards you, “you can’t remember anything? Nothing at all?”

“About myself? Not really…”

“What about your name?” Questions the dark-haired one from before. He seems younger than most of the men surrounding you, perhaps it’s his lack of beard? Or perhaps it’s their very imposing beards that make them seem older than they are? Honestly, you’re just confused.

“Umm the only name I remember is Cwen, I don’t even know if it’s mine.”

“Ye don’t know?” Asks the one with the odd hat.

“It doesn’t… feel right,” you explain and he seems to understand if the nod of his head is any indication. The flaps on this hat bounce up and down with the motion.

“We should take her to Rivendell,” the old man now known as Gandalf says. 

“We aren’t going anywhere near those damn elves…” growls the majestic one. 

“Elrond would know what to do, perhaps even help her with her… abilities…” argues Gandalf.

“What or who is a ‘Rivendell?’” you ask the golden-haired one that is still lingering next to you quietly. 

“It’s not a what or a who, it’s a where,” he says with a wink. 

You give him a small smile in thanks before you hear a voice, “Umm excuse me… Miss?”

You look down to see an even smaller man! If that’s even possible at this point...

“Oh… um… yes?”

“Bilbo Baggins, at your service! Would you like some water?” he asks, suddenly handing you a waterskin. 

You smile down at him before plucking the waterskin from his hands, “Yes, thank you!”

“Milady, we should probably get you into more suitable clothing,” says a new man with gray hair done in an intricate braid. He seems slightly more proper than some of the others and you just nod absentmindedly glancing down at your ruined and pretty much useless dress. 

“Aye!” grunts a balding one, who looks more so like he would kill you than talk to you, “Why are you ye dressed so… impractical.” You can tell he wanted to say something else, the kindly man next to him elbowed him just as he was about to.

“Honestly… I wondered the same thing…” you say as you regard the sandals you are wearing as you examine one foot then the other and the dress. “I don’t think this was on the agenda for the day honestly.”

Meanwhile, you ignore the two men arguing about elves in the background before you realize there are elves…

“There are elves here?” you question softly as you gaze at the men now making their way back towards the once-abandoned camp. You step over logs and hold your dress up enough to keep from getting it snagged on the underbrush of the forest. The golden haired one offering you a hand every once in a while to steady you. You grimace at the way your ankles and feet itch though.

“Of course there is, lass!” exclaims the one with the odd hat, “Surely you’ve heard of Elves!.” 

“Are they tiny?” you ask suddenly, slightly concerned that everyone in this land is just very short. 

“Tiny?” he questions before he bursts into laughter at the idea, “Not exactly, lass. They are about the same size as the race of men, perhaps a little taller on some occasions.”

“Men? You aren’t ‘men’ then?” you ask innocently. 

“What?! You thought we were Men?!” Laughs the dark-haired one. 

“Well if you aren’t Men… what are you?” you ask in confusion.

“Why Dwarves, of course!” exclaims a loud man with red hair, “The best craftsmen and warriors of Middle Earth! You’d have thought she’s never seen a Dwarf before!”

“Umm… but I haven’t…” you say hesitantly.

“Haven’t what?” questions the odd hat one.

“Seen any Dwarves… or Elves for that matter… I don’t think we have either where I come from...” you ponder out loud, trailing off slightly in thought.

The Dwarves are silent around you as they take in this new information.

“She’s a witch I say!” exclaims the one with odd hair once again. 

“Oh hush Nori!” exclaims the one with the elaborate braid. 

“You really aren’t from around here, are ye lass?” questions the one with the odd hat. 

“No… I’m really not… and I’m not quite sure how I got here either…” you say with tears beginning to prick your eyes. You push them away because now is no time to cry. 

“Aye… Don’t you worry lass! We’ll make sure you find your way to safety,” the one with the odd hat winks at you before he gets up to go talk to Gandalf. 

“Aye, you shouldn’t worry,” says the Golden-haired man, um... Dwarf, “He’s right, we won’t let any harm come to you alright?” 

You give him a small smile and a nod, “Thank you.”

“Come on. Bit of breakfast will do you some good,” he says as he helps you to your feet, “Oh! I’m Fili, by the way and that over there is my brother, Kili.”

“Fili and Kili?” you ask softly so you can remember their names. 

“Aye, that over there is my uncle Thorin talking with Gandalf the Gray. That’s Bofur, Bombur, and Bifur,” he says, indicating the man you were talking to earlier as well as a Dwarf with dark hair and a very rotund Dwarf. “And Ori, Nori, and Dori,” he indicates the trio, one being the one who keeps insisting you are a witch and the other is busy gathering up clothing, probably for you and employing the help of another Dwarf that seems quite timid. “That’s Balin and Dwalin, they are two of uncle’s closest friends and advisors. “That’s Oin and Gloin,” he points to the doctor from earlier with the horn to his ear and the redhead from before. “And of course, Bilbo has already introduced himself.”

“Oh dear…” you say suddenly gazing about at everyone, “How many of you are there?”

“Oh, about 14, why?” questions Kili from your other side now. You have a feeling one brother is never too far from the other. 

“That’s… a lot of names…” you say as you regard all the Dwarfs before you in slight confusion and resignation. 

“You’ll learn them soon enough,” Fili says, patting your arm in sympathy. Probably understanding that to an outsider there are probably a lot of them. 

You simply hum your agreement, even if you don’t necessarily believe it. 

“My dear,” Gandalf says suddenly, “Perhaps you could join us for a moment?” 

You glance up from the fire and nod before making your way towards Gandalf and Thorn? No… That’s not right…

“This is Thorin Oakenshield, and this is his company,” Gandalf says, indicating the Dwarf before you. Ah… Yes! Thorin…

“Nice to meet you,” you say politely as you regard both men, “And I am Gandalf the Gray. I was wondering if you could tell us what you are doing in the forest alone?”

“I don’t remember… I just woke up there yesterday evening.”

“Woke up where, my dear?”

“In the forest,” you say vaguely, gesturing the way you came.

“There didn’t happen to be… mushrooms… where you landed?” he asked hesitantly.

“Umm… actually yes… there were mushrooms. Why? Is that important?” you ask hungry for answers. 

“It is something, it is yet to be seen if it is important yet though,” he says cryptically. 

“Okay…” you say in confusion, “Well what now?” 

“What do you mean?” He asks with a furrowed brow. 

“Is there a town I can perhaps find help in close to here? I don’t know what to do really…”

“We should go to Rivendell!” exclaims Gandalf, “Elrond will know what is best.”

“And I’ve already said we are not going to Rivendell!” exclaims the Dwarf passionately. 

You take a step back slightly startled by his outburst. 

“We will find a suitable place for the lady, but we are not wasting time by going out of our way to those blasted Elves!” he then proceeds to swear in another language. How do you know it was a swear? Swearing is a universal language even if one doesn’t understand it. 

“Uncle!” exclaims the dark-haired Dwarf from before, something with a ‘ly’ at the end, “Such language in front of a lady!” 

Thorin just scowls and ignores the mischievous twinkle in his nephew’s eyes. You have a feeling he’s used to the young Dwarf’s antics. 

“Kili! You and your brother make sure the lady is comfortable. I believe that Dori was getting her more suitable clothing?” he asks before eyeing your dress skeptically. You stand a little straighter at his scrutiny suddenly feeling a little self-conscious.

“Yes, Uncle.” 

He sends you a wink before he motions for you to follow him. The man with the intricate braids is holding out some clothes for you, “I know it isn’t much, but this should get you through until we can get more suitable clothing at the next town.”

“Oh! Thank you!” You exclaim before looking around for a tent.

“Come on now!” he says marching towards the woods, “I’ll make sure no one bothers you while you change.” 

After you have changed you find yourself standing about while the Dwarfs tidy up their campsite and start on their way. You don’t really know what to do so you just watch and try to stay out of their way. 

“Feel better then?” you jump at the voice behind you and turn to see one of the brothers behind you. 

“Umm… yes… I do,” you say with a quiet nod and a timid smile. He beams back at you before he hands you a cloak to drape around your shoulders. 

“It’s been rainy lately, you may need this.”

“Thank you,” you say, avoiding his eyes shyly as you stumble to fasten the cloak around your frame. 

“Here, Milady,” he says, before he steps towards you and helps you to do the clasp. 

You look down at the mismatched attire, a tunic that is far too broad in the shoulders and far too long, but also too short at the same time and a pair of pants that has far too much room in the leg and crotch area. The boots that were given to you are laced too tightly in order to stay on your feet and you wonder if the circulation will be cut off. You heave a sigh as Thorin yells that it’s time to move out. You fall in line with the others and instantly you can feel the boots rubbing your heels. This is going to be a long day…

You’re quiet most of the day despite the attempts of several of the Dwarfs to get you to open up. This seemed to dampen the spirit of the one with the funny hat, named… Bofur? You tried to recall the ones who had spoken to you most. The younger ones also seemed concerned with your absent minded answers to their questions. 

“You must be in deep thought about something Lass…” you glance over at Bofur and regard him thoughtfully. 

“Just trying to understand what happened is all… I’ve never done anything like that back there and I’ve never seen anything like those creatures… What even were they?”

“Trolls o’course!” 

“So you don’t have Trolls where you come from either?” pipes up Kili from behind you, jogging to walk alongside you. 

“No, I don’t think we had anything of the sort. At least not in real life.”

“What do you mean ‘real life?’” questions Fili glancing over his shoulder. 

“Well they were in stories, but we didn’t have them in real life.”

“If ye had them in stories, how do you know they aren’t real?” questions Bofur wiggling his eyebrows. 

And for the first time all day you laughed, “I once knew someone who said the same thing about dragons.”

“So there are dragons!?” questions Kili in horror.

“No, we don’t have those either,” you say matter of factly.

“But how do you know?” Questions Bofur once again with that mysterious twinkle in his eyes. 

“Well aren’t they quite large? I think we would know by now! Do you have dragons here?”

“Aye, we’re on our way to reclaim our home from one,” Says Kili in excitement. 

“Kili!” yells a voice from up ahead you recognize as the leader, “That is quite enough! If all it takes is a pretty face to send your head from your shoulders, I will send you back to your mother this instance.”

“Sorry uncle…” he says quietly thoroughly chastised. 

You frown at the harsh way he spoke to him, but you suppose this is a secret quest? Who knows? But you could tell that Thorin didn’t seem to trust you along with a handful of the Dwarfs around you. 

With the light hearted conversations effectively cut off you settle back into silence as you take in the scenery. It’s quite beautiful with lush foliage and tall trees. Bushes seem to be flowering and vaguely you wonder if these are the flowers of spring or summer. 

“Why did your friend think there were dragons even if you don’t?” whispers Kili from your side.

You glance at him and notice the way that Fili and Bofur glance over at you as well, clearly interested in the question. 

“Because they show up in legend and lore from all over the world, in cultures and times when they had no contact.”

“So you do have other races!” exclaims Kili in excitement, clearly pleased with his way of gaining knowledge. 

“Yes, but not like here…” you say calmly, “We’re all human, there aren’t Elves or Dwarves.”

“Sounds odd,” Says Kili decidedly. 

“No more odd than discovering Dwarves and Trolls when you previously thought there were none.”

“Aye, that must have been a right shock there!” Bofur interrupts. 

“You have no idea… Although that wasn’t my first run in with this world…” 

“Oh?” Questions Fili from his place in front of you, easily he falls back and takes the place by your side much to the displeasure of his brother, “What was?”

“Something I had never seen before… It was this large wolf-like thing…”

“Wolf-like thing?!” he asks in alarm, “A warg?”

“I wouldn’t know what a warg is…” you say, baffled by the term, “But perhaps?”

“How did ye live?! I doubt you woudda’ been able to outrun it!” exclaims Bofur from your other side. 

“A witch!” exclaims a voice from ahead of you.

You frown and roll your eyes at the Dwarf a few paces up, “It impaled itself on a branch.”

“Really? How?” questions Kili in wonder from the other side of Fili. 

“I don’t really know… I didn’t see it happen… I was too scared to look…” you say hesitantly not wanting to relive the evening's events. 

“That sounds terrible,” Fili says patting your shoulder, “You must have been terrified.” 

Something about the soothing way that Fili speaks makes you feel better, “I was…” you say looking away from him. 

You spend the remainder of the morning answering questions from the Dwarfs and eventually, many others begin to join in. This is mostly how the morning goes, with you satisfying the curiosity of the younger Dwarves and the Hobbit when he finally gets the courage to linger in the back of the company with you. It did effectively distract you from the pain of your now blistered feet and the fatigue that came with walking all day when you weren’t used to it. 

The sun is high in the sky, filtering through the leaves of the forest when a commotion in the brush alerts you to something coming your way… and quickly...

**Author's Note:**

> I hope you enjoyed the first chapter! Things are about to get wild soon... So drop a comment to tell me what you think!


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